


流血的乌鸦

by akisawana



Category: RWBY
Genre: 5+1 Things, Blood, Gen, Google Translate Chinese, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Suicide Attempt, Poisoning, Serious Injuries, Team STRQ - Freeform, Team as Family, Whump, canonical character dickery, small amounts of other bodily fluids, summer rose's b+ team leading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 08:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13383819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akisawana/pseuds/akisawana
Summary: Five times Taiyang had Qrow’s blood on his hands and one time he didn’t.





	流血的乌鸦

**Author's Note:**

> I used the word blood _thirty-six_ times. So, fair warning.  
>  All Chinese is via Google Translate. Burnie would want it that way.  
> Spoilers up to halfway through vol5. Mostly canon-compliant. Don't try any of this at home, kids.
> 
> Many thanks to @justteaforme for the amazing beta! All mistakes remaining are my own.

1.)碎玻璃

Beacon is a hell of a lot different than Haven, or at least the stories Taiyang heard growing up two days from Mistral. For one, Professor Ozpin formed teams the first day by chance, and while Tai could almost see the logic in how partners were assigned, that didn’t mean he liked it. 

He likes his ownpartner well enough, for all the man was still a stranger. And he likes the other two members of his team. But it’s only a few weeks into the semester and he’s very, very aware that he’s very, very lucky.

Other things are different, too. They take low aura a lot less seriously. At Haven, breaking another student’s aura was the kind of thing that made the evening news, even as a training accident. There were protocols, inquires, early dismissal. Real medical attention. Here, the professor just sent Qrow back to the dorms for the rest of the day with instructions to try not to get into any fights on the way. Nobody even suggested Qrow’s own sister go with him, or his goddamn _partner_. Tai ground his teeth but surely, the teachers know best.

All through the rest of the morning’s classes, Raven insists again and again that Qrow is just fine, that he’s more embarrassed than hurt, and that Taiyang is overreacting. Even Summer, the team leader who’s supposed to be worrying about this kind of thing, gives Taiyang a smile that’s downright indulgent when he says he’s taking Qrow lunch.

Raven protests it should be her, the first concern she’s shown for Qrow since he stood up from the floor, legs shaking but without help. 

Tai squares his shoulders and asks, “If it’s not a big deal why does it have to be you?”

If looks could kill, Raven would strike him down on the spot. Taiyang keeps a firm grip on the boxed lunch and holds his ground against her eyes flashing red fire. Their team gets along pretty well, but… Raven and Qrow have a hard time remembering that they have other partners. Taiyang isn’t the kind of possessive jerk who’d steal a man away from his own twin, but he is the kind of guy who wants his partner to trust him, who wants that trust to be honestly earned. And Raven has a hard time letting him.

“He’s my partner, Raven,” Tai says, very aware of the overwrought drama of the whole situation. It shouldn’t be nearly as big a deal as they were making it. But it’s a conversation that needs to happen, and better now in the safety of the school cafeteria than later with Grimm bearing down on them. “That might not mean much to you, but it does to me.”

Raven glares at him, and he grits his teeth but doesn’t flinch. He’s backed her into a corner, and now she either has to let Taiyang go with her blessing or admit that they’re not really a team. 

The moment she makes her choice is obvious, one blink a hair slow, her eyes briefly raised to heaven almost like prayer. “Fine,” she says. “If it means that much to you.”

“It does.” Tai keeps his voice quiet, not wanting anyone to overhear. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Raven says, with far less venom than he expected. 

“Tell Qrow we said hi,” Summer adds, and Tai had all but forgotten she was there. “And we’ll bring him notes later.”

Taiyang has almost managed to convince himself that the girls were right and he’s being overly dramatic by the time he get to the dorm room. Just close enough to their way of thinking that when he opens the door to find Qrow sitting on the floor _bleeding_ , he drops the food in shock.

“Hey, Tai,” Qrow says, lifting one hand in a bloodstained wave.

“The _fuck_?” Taiyang kneels on the ground next to Qrow without consciously crossing the space between them. “What happened?” Qrow’s sitting in the half-lotus position, his hand wrapped around his foot, and Tai can see blood welling through his fingers. Blood, actual red blood, because his aura was broken and they’d sent him back to the dorm room by himself. Tai should have come with him, should have insisted, teachers be damned. Now his partner is _bleeding_.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t get any blood on the carpet,” Qrow says, like that was a thing they should be worried about.

“What is wrong with you?” Tai asks, trying to pry Qrow’s fingers up. “Let me _see_.”

“You’re overreacting,” Qrow says, but he lifts his hand and lets Tai drag his foot into his partner’s lap.

“No, I’m having your reaction, since you’re _clearly_ not.” There’s a lot of blood, and a long slice along the bottom of Qrow’s foot that looks worryingly deep. Deep enough to draw blood, at least. Taiyang grew up close to the wilds and most people where he’s from unlock their auras before they start school. He’s not sure what qualifies as worrying but he’s never seen this much blood come out of a person before that ended well. “I’m taking you to medical.”

“I’m _fine_!” Qrow says, pulling his foot back. “I’ll be fine,” he corrects, once his hand is wrapped around his foot again. “I got all the glass out and it’s not deep enough for stitches.”

“The _glass_?”

Qrow shrugs and looks away. “Knocked one off the desk and stepped on it when I was cleaning it up. I got it all up though, don’t worry.”

Taiyang sighs and wonders what he did in a past life to justify having this man as his partner. “And in your professional medical opinion you don’t need stitches. I didn’t even know you graduated. I would have sent a card.”

“Tai, it’s fine,” Qrow pleads. “The edges come together, I was just waiting for Raven so she can help me wash it out. Once my aura comes back, it’ll be like it never happened.” 

Qrow was waiting for Raven. Not Tai, not the rest of his team, only Raven. It’s only been a few weeks, and Tai knows he needs realistic expectations, but that _hurts_.

“Your aura regenerates slower than anyone else on the planet,” he says, getting to his feet. Qrow shrugs again, looks away again.

When Taiyang reaches for him, Qrow visibly steels himself so he doesn’t flinch. Something in Taiyang’s chest, the thing that hurt before, breaks at the sight. “C’mon, _I’ll_ help you,” he says. Qrow hesitates, just long enough for Tai to notice, before allowing Tai to help him up.

Where the hell did they grow up, that Qrow’s so reluctant to let Taiyang see him wounded? To let Tai hep? Somewhere bad, somewhere bad enough that Taiyang has no business demanding they make an exception for his ego. Heaven above but he’s glad they doing this in a dorm room and not in a forest full of Grimm, over broken glass and not a broken bone.

Tai hauls Qrow up, and once Qrow’s mostly vertical, Tai hugs him. Qrow’s stiff, but he hugs Taiyang back, awkwardly enough that it’s possible he’s never done this before. 

Taiyang doesn’t have the magic words to make Qrow and Raven understand. He wishes he did. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.” It’s all he has, but if he has to build their trust in him brick by brick, Taiyang _will_. And it’s not ego to think that most people wouldn’t be patient enough, to think that Qrow’s lucky to have him for a partner. 

Maybe the launch pads were rigged.

“Thanks,” Qrow says, leaning on Taiyang as they limp to the bathroom, with the sink and the soap. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” Tai grins at him. “I am _overjoyed_ to have your blood on my hands.”

Qrow squints harder at Taiyang, like he thinks Tai is mocking him. “You sure about that, buddy?”

“I’m sure.” Tai squeezes Qrow’s arm, gently. “You’re my partner. That means something.”

2.)毒血

Qrow likes to be the rearguard, which is...not great. He always stands in the back, where it’s easy to slip out, where his ridiculous height isn’t blocking someone else’s shot. Where he can lag behind and stumble and nobody will see to ask if he’s okay.

They all know he’s not, they’re not stupid and they’re not uncaring. They all saw the hit he took, hard enough to crack the tree trunk and shatter his aura. But he stood back up with Tai’s help, Harbringer still in hand, able to shoot even if he couldn’t take another hit. He helped them retreat from the battle lost before he went flying and now they’re heading back, and there’s nothing they can do until they reach town, and they trust him to speak up if he needs them to slow down.

That’s a mistake.

The twins are always painfully, exquisitely aware of each other, and so when he trips to his knees she’s there in half a heartbeat, her hands on his shoulders taking his weight before Summer and Taiyang are even aware he’s down.

“‘M fine,” he slurs, as Raven arranges his head in her lap, her fingers running down his chest. Summer produces a flashlight, and they can all see blood on Raven’s hands, from a wound that wasn’t leaking when Tai had peeled him off the tree bark earlier. Tai had checked, before he turned back to the fray, and Qrow had taken cover with Harbringer behind the fallen trunk, so when had he gotten hit?

“You’re lying,” Raven tells her brother, moving his right arm to expose the still-bleeding slice running up his side. In Summer’s blue light it looks wrong and vaguely purple, long and still oozing freely. Raven brings her fingers to her mouth, touches her pink tongue to them, and Taiyang may never be able to watch her do that again. “You’re poisoned,” she says.

“Deathstalker,” Summer breathes. It had been small and fast and cunning, and it had seemed so much less dangerous than everything else out there. “Tai, the venom.”

“Stop, just stop!” Raven snaps at her brother, trying futilely to get up. This close, he can’t hide from them how his breath is catching, halfway to hyperventilation. Raven holds him down easily with one hand he can’t shake off, even as he digs his heels in the ground and tries to sit up. “We have to take care of this, alright?”

Qrow shakes his head, eyes wide and red as the blood staining Raven’s knees. “They’re _coming._ ”

Tai presses his hands against the wound, feeling the hot and swollen edges. How far into his blood has it gotten? Qrow’s back arches at the touch, a cry strangled in his throat, and when Tai looks up at Raven, her eyes are wide as her brother’s.

“Taiyang,” Summer says, and Tai can hear all she doesn’t say in two syllables. Hears “I’m going for help,” and “you’re in charge.” Hears “take care of them,” and hears “I can’t watch this,” and hears “please I love him.” Hears “forgive me.”

“Leave the lamp,” he says, drawing the heat of his semblance. Too much, and he’ll burn Qrow alive. Too little, and all he’ll do is make sure Qrow dies warm. But just enough, and the heat will break down the venom. Maybe. “Be safe.”

Raven is whispering something for Qrow’s ears alone, though Tai catches a “little brother,” at the end while she reaches for his hand, their fingers tangled until Tai cannot tell which belong to whom.

He can’t wait until Summer is out of earshot, Qrow can’t wait. Tai calls the fire and presses it hot against Qrow’s skin, while Raven holds him still. Qrow _screams_ , high and harsh and cut off swiftly by Raven’s hand over his mouth, his spine pops as he tries to twist away from the burning but Tai leans a knee on his chest, pinning him in place. “It’s okay,” Raven says gentle enough to scare Tai, and under Tai’s knee Qrow is shaking. 

“Sorry,” he says, wholly inadequate and completely untrue. Tai regrets the necessity, he’s not doing this for fun, but he’s not the least bit sorry for saving Qrow’s life. He presses more heat into his hands, shifts them another few millimeters along Qrow’s ribs. He can’t feel Qrow’s heartbeat.

Raven bends closer to Qrow’s face, hiding him behind the black curtain of her hair. Tai doesn’t move except to chase the venom as it swells and freezes his partner’s veins, inching closer to his heart. He can hear muffled whimpers and he mumbles half-hearted apologies in return and they wait and they wait and they wait, Tai measuring it by how far his hands have drifted. He does not know how Raven counts the minutes. There’s a lot of them.

Tai is halfway across Qrow’s breastbone when they hear the airship loud and bright and low overhead, though it’s forced to land a quarter-klick away. Raven lifts her head and there are tears Tai will not mention on her face, and she keeps her hand over Qrow’s mouth like she’s going to draw a blade from it.

The tightness in Tai’s own chest doesn’t ease until Summer darts in, crouches at Qrow’s side and his head turns to her with all the mysterious inexorably of a magnet. He tries to reach to her, but he’s too weak, his trembling hand falling halfway. Summer catches it and presses her lips briefly to his knuckles. They’ve all got their hands on him, and Tai’s pretty sure he’s helping the least. That’s okay.

Then there’s a medic taking it away, and another saying, “You did good son. Let us take him now,” in Taiyang’s ear. Tai lifts his hands and sits back on his heels and watches as they bundle Qrow on a stretcher, calling out numbers that mean nothing to him. Summer flits around them, trying to stay out of the way and as close as she can at the same time.

Raven grabs his hands and pulls him to his feet. His knees hurt. His wrists hurt. “He’s going to be okay,” Tai says, drawing her into a hug. He needs to feel someone warm.

“I know,” Raven says, pressing her face into his shoulder, her words more felt than heard. “He’s fine.”

It doesn’t sound any less a lie when she says it.

3.) 自杀的怪物

The great thing about the new CCT tower is Taiyang’s ability to keep track of his team’s aura from anywhere.

The terrible thing is how it can’t tell him where on this godsforsaken island his partner is as he watches Qrow’s aura drop, hover at the redline. He watches as it shatters on the screen, and it looks far closer to a video game animation than anything real.

Tai drops his scroll back in his pocket. It can’t help him, but he’s a goddamn hunter. He can find his partner, who’d gotten it in his damnfool head to cut a swath through every Grimm he could find on the island, leaving a trail a blind child could follow. It’s marked by the occasional monster corpse, broken branches and blood on the leaves, leading away from the house where Summer tends to the baby. Less torn branches, more blood, as home grows more distant. When the blood brightens to red, unmistakably human, Tai breaks into a run.

He finds Qrow under a tree, hiding behind his own legs, Harbringer on the ground dripping thick black ichor. Taiyang drops to his knees next to Qrow, one hand automatically going to cradle the back of Qrow’s head, trying to see just how bad it is.

Qrow peeks up through blood-stiff bangs at him, Tai can’t tell who it came from, and Qrow’s voice is weak and rough as he murmurs Tai’s name.

“I’m here, yeah,” Tai says softly, trying to figure out where all the blood was coming from, how much of it was actually worrisome. “It’s gonna be all right. You’re gonna be okay.” So much of it is still wet, so much of it smells too familiar, smells like Qrow’s blood.

“You weren’t supposed to come,” Qrow snarls, trying to push Tai away, but he can’t move Tai on a good day, and this is a bad night. “I don’t want _you_.” Tai manges to find where the blood is sluggishly dripping from, Qrow’s shoulder shredded from what was probably teeth. Not poisoned. Not something Tai can take care of in the dark with what he’s got in his pockets.

Qrow jerks away, surprisingly strong for how much of his blood is on the ground, how much pain he has to be in. Tai can hear the bubbling in his lungs, can measure Qrow’s hurt by the curve of his spine. “Qrow, c’mon, we have to get you help,” Tai says, trying to get a grip on Qrow and pull him closer, but Qrow twists loose, his skin slick with things Tai does not care to enumerate.

“I’m waiting for Raven,” Qrow rasps into his knees, not meeting Tai’s eyes.

“Goddamnit Qrow, you told me she’s not coming back.” Taiyang tries to gauge where grabbing Qrow would hurt the least. He was so … it’s hard to see.

“If I’m dying,” Qrow says and he has to pause, has to suck more air into lungs half-full of blood, “she has to.”

This time, when Tai gathers him closer Qrow does not fight, and Tai can feel the shift of broken ribs under his palms with each shuddering shaking breath, can feel how cold Qrow is, how hard he’s shaking in the dark warm night.

Qrow is dying.

It’s not the first time Taiyang slaps his partner, but it is the first time in anger, and Taiyang’s ashamed of himself even as his palm connects with Qrow’s cheek too pale not just from pain. Pale from nights awake waiting for a sister who never turned up, days of pushing away everyone but Yang, trying to summon Raven to save him from himself.

Qrow turns his head to look at Taiyang, shock in his half-closed eyes. Tai grabs his chin and forces his head up, keeps him from looking away. Do Branwens understand anything that doesn’t hurt, he wonders. “If she doesn’t come, then what?” he demands. “You die here?”

Qrow’s eyes slide shut as he murmurs, “Without her, I am nothing.”

Oh, Tai wants to shake him for that, shake him until the nonsense falls out, but he must settle for asking, “What about me?”

Qrow cracks one eye open, and his jaw is so tight and his breath comes so fast and his heartbeat under Tai’s hands is so thready, and Taiyang knows how much shouting must hurt. How even drawing in the air is like molten lava in Qrow’s lungs, worse than poison, worse than broken glass. “She was my sister long before she was your wife!” Qrow balls one hand into a fist, shakes it in Tai’s direction, but can’t quite manage even the weakest of punches. “Without her, I am _nothing_!”

Raven hits and runs, her target out of the fight before it could think about hitting back. Qrow and Summer are both masters of dodging, of distracting an enemy away from the other. Of team STRQ, only Taiyang braces for the hit, only Taiyang takes the blows, stands his ground without flinching.

That doesn’t make it hurt less.

“What am I without my partner?” he asks, one hand in Qrow’s sticky hair. He presses their foreheads together, heedless of Qrow’s wounds. ”I can’t lose you too. Summer needs you. Yang needs you. I can’t. I can’t survive this without you.” There are tears in Taiyang’s eyes, tears he couldn’t stop falling if he bothered to try. “ _I_ need you. Xiao niao, didi, _Qrow_.” Little bird. Little brother. In his arms and so far away. “You’re not nothing. You’re _mine_.”

Qrow makes a noise, a sob or choking on his own blood, no words Tai can understand. But when Tai lets go of his hair, Qrow drops his head onto Tai’s shoulder, and his hand comes up to tangle in Tai’s shirt, and when Tai shifts to looks properly at his bleeding back Qrow doesn’t resist.

It’s a warm night, warm enough that Qrow’s shirt can be sacrificed for bandaging the worst of the wounds. Tai shucks off his own shirt and wraps it around Qrow’s shoulders, thankful that Qrow is still aware enough to give him a grateful look, though he’s fading fast. “Summer’s calling the medics to meet us at the house,” Tai says. He sent her a message asking her to before he even found Qrow, just from the amount of blood smeared over the leaves. If he ever sees blood again it will be too goddamn soon. “I told her you’d tell her what happened.” 

Of the three left, only Tai can take hit after hit and keep going. To hear that Qrow didn’t even think of her might shatter Summer entirely. Tai will spare her that as long as he could. 

He has to lift Qrow into a fireman’s carry, but it’s fine. Qrow isn’t the slightest bit heavy, brothers never are. Tai can carry him all the way home.

He pretends the raven that follows them is a coincidence, a wild bird called by the scent of blood and death.

4.) 酷刑审讯

Tai wakes from a dream of Raven’s portal, just in time to hear the crash outside, late at night with Ruby in the basket between him and Summer, Yang tucked under his other arm. Yang’s getting better about sleeping in her own bed, but her uncle is three days late and she’s worried.

They’re all worried.

The kitchen window is open, the light above the sink on, and the crow still missed, still hit the wall of the house with an audible thump. Taiyang doesn’t bother to slip his shoes on when he opens the back door to ten centimeters of snow and a black bird crumpled on the ground. The bird looks dead. It would be easy to assume it snapped its neck on impact.

Tai knows a little bit more about birds than most people, though.

He scoops it up with one hand warmed by his semblance, cradles it against his chest and brings it inside. If it was a wild bird, he’d put it in the box lined with warm scraps that they keep for just that purpose, but this isn’t a wild bird and so the rules are different. The snow melts from his bare feet onto the kitchen floor, follows him into the living room as he goes to the couch, mixing with blood from the bird, because of course his featherbrained partner had to go and get himself shot on top of everything.

Once he parts Qrow’s feathers with a fingertip, Taiyang can read the story written on Qrow’s back easily enough; a shotgun blast mostly dodged, only five or six pellets hitting hard enough to draw blood. He hasn’t transformed since, the wounds scabbed over and starting to heal, broken open by the latest impact. Not great, but as soon as Qrow shifts back to human, they’ll be gone, replaced by… probably worse injuries, if Qrow flew straight here without checking in at Beacon. Qrow’s gotten better at taking hits, now that Summer’s not always around to pull the enemy away, but he’s still not at Tai’s level.

Tai drags the blanket over himself and the bird tucked against his chest, rocking to the same rhythm that soothes Ruby. He hums the song Yang’s been dancing to nonstop for the last week and a half, and resists the urge to try to rouse Qrow. Dark and warm for the bird to collect itself, motion and sound for the man to know where he is. He closes his eyes, because there are rules that are at once logical and utterly lacking in common sense, and he makes sure that he’s in the center of the couch, far enough from the arms that his ridiculous coatrack of a partner won’t hit his head.

It feels like a very long time he sits there, the slight movement of the bird’s chest against his fingers the only sign he’s not holding a tiny corpse. 

Tai’s a little guilty about how glad he is Qrow still comes home when he’s hurt before making his report. He can’t stand the idea of Qrow bleeding without Summer there to hold his hand, without Tai to distract him. There’s nobody in Vale Qrow trusts enough to even see him hungover, let alone weak and in pain. Tai knows that’s more to do with his partner than with any defect in Beacon, but still… their system works.

In the space between one heartbeat and the next, Qrow tumbles out of his arms and sprawls across Taiyang’s lap, his face tucked into Tai’s neck, his leg dangling over Tai’s thigh hot and swollen in a way that can only mean injury. His hand scrabbles at Tai’s shoulder, trying to hold on, and he isn’t quite managing to muffle the small scared sounds coming from his throat.

“You’re okay,” Tai half-whispers, holding Qrow close. “I’m here. You’re safe.” There are rope burns on Qrow’s wrists, hot as brands against Tai’s skin. He can read the story written across Qrow’s body easily enough. The shattered aura, the shadowy bruises, the knee wrenched out of place so badly Qrow can’t walk. It doesn’t matter what, exactly, they did to him or to Ozpin by proxy, if they were trying to make him talk or just punishing his boss. The treatment is the same. Tai will ice the bruises and clean the cuts, and when Summer is awake to hold Qrow still, they’ll pour him a shot of tequila and Tai will push his kneecap back into place. They’ll spread the blanket over him and place Ruby in his lap, and Yang will carry drinks and snacks, so careful and proud.

Now, Tai cradles him against his chest, in the dark and the quiet where Qrow has the illusion of privacy to collect himself. He rocks Qrow to the same rhythm that soothes Ruby and hums the song Yang’s been dancing to nonstop for a week and a half, and doesn’t try to rush Qrow, doesn’t begrudge him a second of comfort.

5.)瞎喝醉

Taiyang is no stranger to being woken by a crash in the middle of the night. Between two daughters, and their uncle who occasionally shows up drunk, and a partner that has a tendency to fall on his floor rather than the doorstep of a hospital, and a brother-in-law that might just be bad luck incarnate...

It’s Qrow. Taiyang is used to loud crashing noises waking him up in the middle of the night because that’s what happens when Qrow Branwen has a key to your house. By this point he could even tell what state he’d find Qrow in by the sounds. One night, he’ll go downstairs to drag Qrow’s scrawny butt off the floor and he’d be surprised by a burglar or Yang’s theoretical boyfriend he wasn’t supposed to know about. (At thirteen, he assumes she would break up with her boyfriend any day now. Fenhong is a nice enough boy, but they are _thirteen_. Also, to be honest, he doesn’t think Fenhong will be able to keep up with Yang once they head to Signal.)

He’s utterly unsurprised to find Qrow kneeling in the middle of the broken coffee table, a trickle of blood running down the back of his neck, trying to push two pieces back together. He can’t actually smell the whiskey from the doorway, but he’s sure it’s there. Especially when he gets all the way across the floor to stand behind Qrow without being noticed.

Qrow goes very still at the feeling of Taiyang’s fingers in his hair. There’s a pretty little gash bleeding freely across the back of his head, but the edges meet easily when Tai pinches them together.

“’M sorry,” Qrow starts, and he’s drunk enough to sound drunk. Tai’s grateful he came home to sleep it off instead of, oh, a thousand other terrible ideas he’s had before. “It jumped up, I had to defend m’self, you know how it is.”

“Sit down on the couch and shut up,” Taiyang orders. He’s not actually mad. A little annoyed -okay a lot annoyed- but not mad. It’s hard to get mad at Qrow these days, when Qrow is in front of him and alive, two things he will never take for granted again. He wishes he could get mad at Qrow. That might inspire the man to change. “Don’t even think about moving.”

Tai fetches the first aid kit and a towel from under the kitchen sink, takes the minute to scrub his hands. The only thing Qrow would change is how much he let his partner see, Tai knows, and he can’t stand the thought of Qrow not asking him for help. In the meantime, he’s not so hard to watch these days, not like before. Tai wasn’t much fun to live with back then either, to be fair.

Tai was worse, in fact, and he takes obscure comfort in knowing Qrow can rise to the occasion if he truly has to, for the girls’ sake if for nothing else. No, Tai can’t get mad at Qrow when he’s put his partner through so much worse.

It’s never fun to go digging through Qrow’s scalp with tweezers, though. Tai pulls out three splinters, needle-thin and twice as sharp. The coffee table had worked well enough, but Tai had a realistic view of its lifespan in this house and budgeted accordingly.

Qrow doesn’t flinch when Tai flushes the laceration out with bottled water, sterile and cold. At least none of Ruby or Yang’s things are lying around for Qrow to have tripped over. No, it was just Qrow being drunk and unlucky, and that removes a whole tangle of emotion to deal with. They’ll wake up tomorrow to a hungover uncle for Ruby to tease and Yang to fuss over. 

Tai swears Qrow doesn’t breathe the entire time he dabs neosporin along the wound, and he’s as gentle as he can be. Qrow might actually die before he admits something hurts, forcing Tai to guess how bad it is. He allows himself a heavy exhale when Tai pinches the edges together again, or maybe it’s forced out of him.

“Aura,” Tai says, holding the wound closed. It flickers red over Qrow’s skin, the wound sealing together under his fingers and fading like it was never there. There’s no debris left inside, no pockets of bacteria to explode in a nightmare of infection later. Tai combs his fingers through Qrow’s hair wet and sticky with drying blood, stroking until Qrow slumps forward and says, “I’ll clean it up.”

“It can wait.” Tai doesn’t stop petting Qrow, until his partner leans back against him, and then he loops his arms around Qrow. Qrow can take care of himself, he knows.

That doesn’t mean Taiyang ever stops worrying.

Tai’s never been good with words, not ones Qrow understands, though he suspects it’s as much Qrow’s fault as his own, that Qrow looks for things Tai never means to say. He doesn’t ask where Qrow’s been or what he’s been up to, trusts that if he needs to know, Qrow will tell him. That trust was hard-won, earned only after they lost half their team, but Qrow respects it now, as long as Tai doesn’t pry and keeps rubbing his thumb in circles on Qrow’s arm.

Instead he says, “Girls will be happy to see you in the morning.”

“I’ll make pancakes if you have the stuff,” Qrow offers, tipping his head back to look at Tai. His eyes are clear, more than a little suspicious. Halfway to sober, too, the flicker of aura purging the alcohol from his blood even as it healed the head-wound.

“We should,” is all Tai says, still rubbing Qrow’s arm with his thumb. It’s good to have him here, alive and well, with the biggest problem whether they’re going to the city for a new coffee table before or after lunch.

Qrow searches his face, and he’s not smiling. “Is everything okay, Taiyang?” he asks, slow and careful like he’s expecting the answer to be no.

“Aside from you opening up your head?” Tai smiles at him, hopefully reassuring but with Qrow you can never tell. “For once, everything is _fine_.”

“Then why are you...” Qrow trails off, but Tai can finish the sentence easily enough, and it almost breaks his heart. After nearly twenty years, Qrow should understand.

But after nearly twenty years, Taiyang gets it. Qrow always thinks it’s a matter of time, thinks he’s being logical when really he’s just looking for all the ways it can go wrong. Tai doesn’t take it personally anymore. He just proves Qrow wrong, one day after another. Lets the days stack to weeks and the weeks to months and the months to years. If there’s a magic tipping point it won’t be for at least ten years yet, well after the mark where Raven left or the place where Qrow left her, whichever it was.

“The world doesn’t have to be ending for me to be nice to you, xiao niao,” Tai says. He’s sure Qrow will spin all sorts of apocalyptic scenarios out of the nickname. Tai doesn’t use it enough, sometimes he thinks he doesn’t tell Qrow enough how important he is. What’s the use of promising to the death when it looks like that might be in the next five minutes? And yet, when they’re not in mortal danger it always seems so melodramatic.

Qrow squints harder at Taiyang, like he thinks Tai is mocking him. “You sure about that, buddy?”

“I’m sure.” Tai squeezes Qrow’s arm, gently. “You’re my partner. That means something.”

+1.) 发烧的梦想

Qrow is pretty sure he’s not hungover. Like, eighty percent sure. He’s been hungover before, and this is not…

There’s a hangover in there somewhere, tight and half-dehydrated pulling behind his eyes. But there’s cold water in his lungs and fire in his bones and he can’t feel his feet. He can’t remember what happened last night. He can’t…

He can’t stop himself from retching and puking over the side of the bed. At least he won’t die choking on his own vomit. That’s...yeah. A death he’d rather avoid, Glynda would never ever let him live it down.

The bed dips, and it’s Summer sitting next to him, dipping so far she must be pregnant with Ruby, who will look so much like her, more even than Yang looks like Raven, and Qrow can barely look at her sometimes barely look at Ruby sometimes and he doesn’t know how Taiyang does it except for when he doesn’t, so lucky they are that they’re never in sync anymore, that one of them can always brush Ruby’s hair change Yang’s bandages. 

Summer’s fingers are cool as they push his hair out of his eyes and her hood is red with her blood, she’s holding cool blood to his lips and telling him to sip and he can’t say no to her, he never could say no to her so he drinks her blood and it tastes like sweet water and he wishes for the bite of alcohol because he’s a useless drunk and she pushes him back down on the bed swaying like the sea Qrow hates the sea and he sinks back down…

He claws back up an hour or a year later, he doesn’t know how much time it’s been. He can’t see the sun against the wall. He can’t see the wall. He can see Tai’s hair golden and Qrow is so cold, shattered-aura cold, blood-loss cold, poisoned-veins cold. Qrow reaches out to his partner with a noise that might have been Taiyang’s name, but Tai pushes

him

away

and Qrow can’t remember what happened but Raven is missing and Summer is dead and Taiyang just clutched Qrow tighter each time, annoyingly close, and now and now-

What did he do? He can’t remember what he did, only all the things he didn’t do, didn’t stop Cinder didn’t save Amber didn’t help Glynda, didn’t bring Raven home didn’t keep Yang safe didn’t find whatever scared boy Ozpin’s living in now. What did he do that Taiyang won’t look at him, won’t touch him?

Qrow doesn’t know, doesn’t remember who Cinder is or how Ozpin died, he can only remember the look on Jimmy’s face when he thought Qrow was going to kill him. Can only remember the blue of Taiyang’s eyes, and now Tai won’t even look at him and he doesn’t hurt nearly enough and that’s. That’s bad. All he can feel is cold, all he can see is dark like Raven’s hair falling around him, she never ties it all back and sometimes, when things are very grim, she bends close to him and her hair hides them and now he can’t even see his twin’s face.

It was the first thing he saw, and he always figured it would be the last but he was wrong, the last thing he sees is a black bird streaking high above.

Qrow isn’t dead and the room is spinning and he is drowning and something is on fire. He stretches for the warmth, he’s so impossibly cold and his shirt is sticking to him with sweat. Right now, he’d gladly kill a man for a shower. A specific man with golden eyes and a red dress. 

That doesn’t make any sense, fuckit. Qrow already had the melodramatic going to die moment complete with confusing and vague symbolism and now he’s cold and gross and so completely done with this, he doesn’t even care anymore. Just everyone leave him alone to curl up and die in peace.

Except he can’t curl up because Tai’s in the way under his shoulder and when did Taiyang shrink? Tai’s propping him up, and saying something Qrow can’t really understand, but it doesn’t matter, he trusts his partner and he’s been forgiven. Summer’s trying to get him to drink again, and he can’t taste it, he can barely swallow, but he can see Raven perched on a branch above them.

His team is here, and Qrow closes his eyes and lets them take care of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading


End file.
